FInding Peace
by Elizabeth1985
Summary: Supernatural Fic set post S08. I do not own any Supernatural etc... Will contain definite and eventual Destiel. Rated M for a reason. I prefer long build ups though so be forewarned. Also, some Sam with a new woman who is also a witch.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Started writing this fic post S08 but before S09 started.**

* * *

Dean's lungs were screaming in agony. He was in shape, but long distance running was like a form of a hell. Sam, with his long strides was already several meters in front of him. _Smart ass is going to get to the field before me!_ He tried to double his efforts but he was breathing like an asthmatic.

"Sammy!" rough breath… "Wait up!". Dean burst into the clearing with perfect timing as he saw Sam football tackle the witch to the ground. It was almost comical. He tried to laugh but came out more of a cough.

The moon was incredibly bright and it made the clearing seem all the more eerie in the way the shadows from the trees were cast across the ground. It certainly felt as though the place had significant energy, which was probably why she'd chosen it.

It had been three days since the angels fell. This was their only lead. It had better pan out.

He could hear the two arguing and grunting as they struggled on the ground and Dean ran over to lend a hand.

Within seconds of Dean reaching the struggle, the two brothers had the woman pinned to the ground. Her long brownish red hair a mess around her and her caramel brown eyes were filled with annoyance more than hatred. She was the sexiest damn witch he'd ever seen but that wouldn't stop him from throwing down with her if she gave them problems.

They knew she was tied in with one of the demons they were tracking. Specifically one they believed may have been in tight with Metatron.

"Alright bitch, start talkin'!" Dean's tone was clipped and demanding. She looked at him with her eyes burning and breath huffing in gasps from the struggle with Sam.

"You.. stupid… idiots!" She punched out between breaths and struggled to get free but found they were too strong for her and she was too low on energy to perform any magic.

"I'm … trying to help…. Jesus!" She pushed against their arms again.

"Listen lady, struggle all you want, we're bigger and stronger, and we've got all night." Dean spoke with a cocky grin. He had to admit though, she was stronger than she looked. It was almost taking all of his and Sammy's weight to keep her on the ground.

Sam looked at Dean with impatience and annoyance, to which Dean replied by raising his eyebrows. He had no idea how Sam always managed to get that stick up his butt.

"As my brother has so nicely pointed out to you, you have nowhere to go and we've got nowhere to be. So why don't you do some talking. What exactly do you mean 'you're trying to help?'" Sam asked, looking at Dean as if to tell him to preemptively shut the F up.

Riiiight. "You're not buying this shit, are you Sammy?" He shook his head disappointingly but not entirely surprised, Sam was always a bit softer than he was. The Witch had opened her mouth to speak, and Dean clamped his hand tight over it.

"She. Is. A. Witch. Dumbass."

"Yeah. So? It wouldn't be the first time we met supernatural beings who were actually reputable. Or, are you forgetting the bromance you had last year?" Sam asked, referring to Benny.

"There was no bromance. And besides, he knew what he was, and he," Dean inhaled shakily, remembering what he'd had to do, "…. he's gone. He was a danger, and he knew it. It didn't make him a good guy, just honest." Dean replied. The truth was, Dean missed Benny. The guy had been a really good friend through a really difficult time and deep down he knew something of what Sam had said had truth to it.

Sam was staring at him with that all-knowing, seeing into your soul shit gaze. Goddamnit.

Dean grunted his annoyance and removed his hand. Trying his hardest not to realize how beautiful she was. The bad guys weren't usually this alluring. They were usually right nasty.

"Fine. Speak." Dean directed at her curtly.

"Geez, if you hadn't said brother back there I would've thought you guys were lovers." She smirked and her comment received equal exclamations of disgust from both Dean and Sam.

"Listen bitch, pissing us off and seriously grossing us out is rea;;y not helping you any." Dean was losing his patience and he pulled her shoulder up momentarily just to slam it back down again with decent force. She whimpered and nodded her head in understanding. This damn witch was feisty, he thought.

"Sorry, was just a joke. Anyway, I've been trying to follow what's been going on. I make a habit of tracking demons and supernatural activity. For some reason they don't seem aware that I can do it. I have no idea why." She shook her head to stop a potential ramble about herself. "Yesterday I saw that a demon with yellow eyes was meeting with the angel called Metatron and I couldn't understand why. A meeting between a demon and an angel isn't something you see all too often. I didn't know what they spoke about. I saw them at one point disappearing together and when they came back I am positive I heard the angel say 'Yes, it will be Castiel.'"

Sam and Dean looked at each other with matching looks of intense curiosity and severe worry. Sam exhaled a rough breath into the cold night and focused again on the witch below them.

"I'm sorry… Did you say a demon with yellow eyes?" Sam asked a bit shakily. Dean's heart was pounding trying to not consider the possibilities of what this meant. Dean was staring at the Witch, waiting with an intense air surrounding him. He felt like he was on fire with anger. This couldn't be happening. Not again. The son of a bitch was dead! Dean had killed him with the Colt. He was positive of it.

"Yes. I believe… I mean I have seen the disappearing thing before and there is always a bit of shimmer left behind and from what I have been able to learn over the years, I am almost one hundred percent certain they went back in time.. or forward." She explained to the two men above her who looked so unbelievably torn and tormented that she felt sympathy for them for whatever the yellow-eyed demon must have done.

"I'm sorry. I don't know much else." She continued, "I was trying tonight to see if I could find either one of them again. Keep tabs I guess. I didn't get a chance to before I was thrown to the ground so rudely!" She looked at Sam with irritation and let out a long sigh.

"Can I please get up now? My clothes are getting damp." She asked hoping to interrupt what was some silent conversation being held above her.

They simultaneously looked down at her, as if they'd forgotten she was there.

"How are we supposed to trust you?" Dean asked.

"Because she speaks the truth." Castiel's voice was like a welcome breeze on a hot day. It instantly made Dean more comfortable. Safe. The thinness of the angels voice was unsettling.

"Cas! Thank god – How the fuck did you get here?" Dean asked.

"I walked." Cas stated simply.

"From where? Dude, you look like road kill." Dean observed the dirty trench coat, muddy boots. A little blood streak ran down the right side of the coat and the angels hair was incredibly greasy looking. His eyes were heavily lidded and his body seemed to lean to one side.

"Kansas." Castiel swayed slightly and then dropped to the ground without another word. Dean jumped up and ran towards him without thinking twice about the witch that had previously held his attention.

"Christ, Dean. He just walked… like three hundred miles… and.. shit.. he's definitely human." Sam spoke from somewhere behind him, probably still with the woman.

Dean was kneeling beside Cas, his hand on his forehead, which was clammy and warm. "C'mon buddy. We need ya." He pulled Cas into his arms but didn't stand up.

"I can help him." A small voice came from behind him. That woman was still here. He kept forgetting about her.

"How?" Sam asked.

"Well if you would get off of me I can show you!" She shoved Sam and managed to throw him onto the ground beside her and he landed on his ass looking taken aback by having been knocked down by a woman half his size. Dean thought it would have been hilarious if he hadn't been holding one his best friends bodies, unconscious in his arms.

* * *

Chloe pushed herself off the dewy grass and walked cautiously towards the older Winchester brother. She knew who they were of course, but she knew better than to reveal more of her hand that was absolutely necessary. The taller one had recovered quickly and was behind her in an instant. His large palm landed on her shoulder, and he leaned in towards her ear.

"Watch yourself" He warned in a quiet steely calm voice.

The threat should have frightened her but the effect of Sam's warm breath against her ear and neck only made her stomach tighten and her breath come faster. Oh God.. this was sooo not the time she thought.

She had heard so many stories about the Winchester brothers. The younger, Sam, was knowledgeable and incredibly keen and very tall. The older brother wickedly handsome and a cocky flirt with quick reflexes and was a notorious fighter. Until now though, she had never met either of them, and was not prepared for the sudden attraction to them that was coursing through her veins.

She nodded acknowledgment at Sam's threat, his mouth was still inches from her ear, and his warm heavy palm remained on her shoulder. They walked together towards where Dean knelt on the ground with the angel in his arms.

She looked at Sam, a request for permission, and he dipped his head. She dropped her knees slowly to the damp hard grass as close to Dean as she thought would be necessary and still be acceptable.

"May I?" She asked softly, with her arms extended, palms out.

The brother looked so incredibly worried and threatened, like she was going to murder his spouse or something. And then it clicked… maybe that was his partner. He must have seen her expression falter because his eyes grew wide and he took a couple unsteady breaths, his chest shaking with the broken attempts for air. She must be right.

Dean shuffled closer to her but didn't let go of the man in his arms. She held his eyes with her own while she brought her palms closer to the angels head. Sam had put his hand back on her shoulder and he squeezed it in a silent warning. She couldn't do anything to reply at that moment so they just had to trust her.

Closing the final inch, she placed her hands on either side of the angels head, a caress as best as she could imagine so as not to worry the two brothers. The Angel's hair was damp and dirty, his skin felt rough and obviously hadn't been shaven in a few days. What worried her more was how warm his skin felt in the cold night. Too warm to be normal. Not only was he dehydrated and starving, he was also quite sick.

She cleared her thoughts and focused on her breath. She felt the energy pull into her from the night, the white, pure heat of the essence of life zinging through her limbs, bringing a tingling sensation as it travelled though her. She channeled the energy into the angel and as the connection was made she felt the purity of him. This angel was wholly good and it made the process easier. It also made her own body tingle in a way that felt so terribly inappropriate but she had expected this, so she ignored it. Anytime she invaded someone this way, their true nature always affected her, like her body was drawn to the goodness in them.

She realized sadly that as she focused on helping his body heal from dehydration, exhaustion and hunger, that he was in fact a man now. No longer an Angel of the Lord. Which meant that what she had seen earlier in the week was now fully confirmed.

The Angels had fallen from heaven. She couldn't imagine what the repercussions might be. It terrified her.

She quickly pulled her hands away before her negative thoughts could filter through the connection and cause any damage.

She leaned back on her heels and opened her eyes and felt a familiar sense of loss as the extra energy faded from her. She shivered, hating the loss of warmth it had given her. Sam placed his other hand on her opposite shoulder and rubbed up and down her arms soothingly. She partially leaned back against his hold, needing the support. She had been tired before, and being used to help heal someone always took a lot out of her.

* * *

Dean noticed his friends breathing became more even, consistent, his temperature had seemed to go back to normal and even his colour was a lot better. He had to admit, chick had skills.

He glanced up to apologize for before and say thanks and then he saw their odd position. Sam was sitting on the wet ground with his long legs spread wide and the woman sitting back on her heels, eyes closed, leaning on Sam's hands that were rubbing up and down her arms.

_Well shit_.. guess Sam really did think she was above-board. She seemed a little out of it but he gave her his thanks anyway, to which she nodded lethargically.

The cold dampness of the night was making itself known to him and he stood up with Cas still in his arms.

"C'mon Sammy, let's get back." He started walking towards the tree line and back to the Impala.

Dean heard a tiny shuffle and looked behind him to make sure his brother was following him. Sam had the woman in his arms and was following behind Dean.

"We have to bring her." Sam said.

"Yeah… I know." Dean thought back to what she'd told them, and if Cas had confirmed it, that shit was serious bad news.

* * *

**A/N: Chapter being posted simultaneously. Reviews very welcome!**


	2. Chapter 2

It took a few hours to get back to Kansas. Cas and the woman slept for the entire drive. When Dean pulled into their makeshift home, Sam felt drained. Nothing ever got better, he thought. Just different shades of fucked up.

He looked over at Dean and they looked each other with a shared feeling of despair. Who knew what would happen now that the world was filled with angels and demons, just walking about. One particular demon, and one particular angel were sure to really mess their world up.

"Let's get them inside." Dean stepped out of the car and opened the back door to get Cas. Sam would have to carry the girl in as well. She was still out cold and he didn't want to wake her after she'd helped their friend.

He opened the door and looked down at her curled against the seat. Her face seemed strained and no doubt she had a wealth of material for nightmares if she was always peaking in on demons and God knows what else. He slipped his arm behind her neck, tucking his hand under her arm, and his other reached below her knees. He had to crouch low to pull her out of the car and he was worried he'd jostle her and wake her up but as he straightened, closed the door with his thigh and began walking to the door, she didn't even stir.

When he made it inside, there was no sign of Dean. Sam knew that Dean had a soft spot for Castiel. Hell, so did Sam. Cas, Kevin and Charlie were really the only family they had now. And in their line of work, that said a lot. They had been through hell, heaven and purgatory together. He knew Dean was particularly worried and he hoped they would find a way to fix heaven, seal hell and perhaps move on… to something. Some semblance of a real life. Though it seemed they'd been hoping for that for so long now that the reality of ever reaching that point seemed less plausible with each new evil.

He pushed open the door to his dark bedroom, knowing the other rooms probably wouldn't be suitable. They had never taken the time to set up any other rooms in case they had visitors. It wasn't like they had any family left, or a whole lot of friends.

Sam eased her down on the bed and grabbed the extra wool blanket at the end and placed it over her. She was incredibly beautiful, he thought. Her auburn hair was a mess and starting to turn wavy from the dew that had settled in the night.

Could he trust her? It wouldn't be the first time, but he had been so horribly wrong before. He didn't trust himself to… trust. He couldn't handle being fooled again. He reasoned though that at least she was human and not a demon. That had to count for something.

He turned and walked out of the room, closing the door quietly and made his way to the kitchen where he found Dean sitting at the long table with a beer in his hand, his features slack as he stared into space.

"How is he?" Sam asked, grabbing a beer from the fridge and settling down beside his brother.

"Sleeping. I'll wake him in a few hours to eat something." Dean replied solemnly, fingering the label on the bottle.

"Well. It wouldn't be our lives if it wasn't a mess, right? We'll deal." Sam was not usually the one for reassurances but he knew Dean was lost right now, having seen Cas so broken.

"Yeah… yeah. Course, Sammy." He took a swig from his beer and put the mostly still full bottle back on the table and stood up. He stared at the table absently and it worried Sam. He'd rarely ever seen Dean this vacant. He looked like he'd given up. The last time he'd seen that look, Dean had almost said yes to Michael. It was the one time when Dean had truly given up.

"I'm going to bed. Sam, you need sleep too. I'll be in my room if you need me." Dean disappeared out of the kitchen and Sam stood up and poured the unfinished beers down the sink.

He found his way into the living room and landed on the couch with a thud. The old couch protested as it accepted his weight. They really needed to get new furniture, he thought offhandedly.

They had been through a lot of shit, and this wouldn't be any different. They continued on, always did. Not even death or going to hell had stopped them. He tried to find solace in that. It was depressing as hell but they were alive and that mattered. Especially as he thought of all those he'd lost.

As Sam tried to find sleep, he found his mind wandering towards the image of a woman, strong and beautiful, lying in his bed. Was she a threat or something else?

* * *

Chloe felt a strange tingling sensation in her fingers and bolted upright in the bed in a full panic, her arm that had been wrapped around her head had gone numb from its position, her fingers losing their circulation. She was not normally the type of sleeper that tossed and turned all night but from the look of the sheets pushed down to the far corner at the foot of the bed, and one of the pillows on the floor, it seemed that night had been an exception.

Wait a minute….

She became completely still. Where the hell was she? She could not remember anything beyond Sam picking her up, after that she must have passed out. Anything could have happened. She closed her eyes and reached out with her senses trying to get a bead on who was near, where she was, anything.

She could sense warm bodies nearby, three in total, assumedly the three from last night. She turned over and breathed in through the pillow and she recognized Sam's scent. Deodorant, soap and something pure Sam that she couldn't define. It made her feel warm and safe. She wondered where he had slept. This was obviously his bedroom and he definitely hadn't slept with her.

She got out of the bed and walked over to the dresser, where a small mirror was propped up against a pile of socks. She looked at her reflection and thought she would definitely be mistaken for some creature if she walked out looking that way.

Her natural curly hair that she normally wore straight had curled and frizzed throughout the night. The sweat from whatever nightmares that had plagued her and that she couldn't recall had given it a particularly scuzzy look. With her hair sticking out all around her and skin slightly shiny, she desperately hoped she could make it to the bathroom before running into any of the men. Trouble was, she didn't have a clue where the bathroom was. Sure, as a witch she could find who or what was near just by tuning into their energies but locating a toilet was sadly out of her control.

She still had on her clothes from the night before and they were covered in grass stains and sweat so she stripped them down only to realize that she obviously did not drive here and therefore probably had none of her own clothes.

She felt bad but she pulled open the drawers of the dresser and managed to find a plain white t-shirt, boxers and a cozy pair of socks. She probably could have found something a little less intimate but she thought she would enjoy the look on Sam's face when he saw her in his boxers. She grinned as she made her way out into the hall.

She looked both ways and didn't see a soul, maybe they were all still sleeping. She turned right and luckily found a bathroom door ajar just a few feet down the hallway. Thank god! She thought.

Once in the bathroom, she closed the door as quietly as she could, assuming everyone else was still asleep. She saw what appeared to be clean towels on top of a cabinet and decided to take a full-on shower. She cranked the levers and hopped in once the water was warm enough.

Her mind was pulled back to the night and the look on the brothers' faces when she had mentioned the yellow-eyed demon. She knew something tragic had happened and she felt, with all she knew about the Brothers that she should know about it but the only stories that she had heard about them were hunting stories and little quips from other hunters, nothing about their past, nothing real.

As she finished washing up, Chloe stood there feeling the water rush down the back of her head, down her spine she wasn't sure what would happen now. Did they trust her? Did they need her help? Heaven had fallen, there was a rogue Angel, and whoever the yellow-eyed demon was, he likely had evil plans of his own.

Of all the stories she'd heard about the Winchesters, it was rare that they ever seemed to be associated with anyone other than each other. The Angel, who she now knew as Castiel, was mentioned occasionally but sporadically. It was a wonder they had managed to live this long with what they did for a living. More like 'as a living', they certainly did not get paid by anyone. She, on the other hand, usually charged for her services.

She made the decision as she shut off the shower and started drying, that she would help them in any way she could – free of charge. Perhaps she would actually be able to do some good. She had always been on the sidelines, monitoring and watching, only very rarely did she ever take on anything big herself and usually only when no other choice was left. So many witches became evil and she was worried that in fighting evil, she would be closer to it, and therefore more susceptible to being affected by it. She feared herself, of what she could become. She was a strong witch but purposefully held herself back. She hoped they could help her control herself.

She dressed herself in Sam's clothes once again, though underwear would be more accurate. It was time to find Sam.

* * *

Sam was immersed in the most erotic dream he'd ever had. The woman with her long auburn hair was straddled across his hips, sliding up and down on his cock and her mouth was sucking and biting along his neck and shoulder. Her hair tickled across his chest and face. He tried to push it out of the way so he could see her…

"Ow! Sam, that's my hair." The witch spoke from above him but something was…

Sam woke up. _Shit_, he thought.

His lids cracked open and found the woman leaning over him pulling her hair out of his fingers, fingers that had managed to tangle themselves in the long tresses. She had obviously been leaning over him, trying to wake him up when he'd felt her hair and pushed his hand into the wet tangled strands.

"Oh! Uhh.. Sorry." He helped her untangle the mess and finally noted what she was wearing. His chin dropped, leaving his mouth gaping.

She had on his plain grey boxer briefs, a well-worn white t-shirt, and his favourite warm socks. Her cheeks reddened as she noted his stare.

"Sorry about the clothes. I.. uhh… My clothes were disgusting and I didn't have anything else." She explained tugging at the shirt that already dwarfed her.

All at once Sam realized how ridiculous she looked in his clothes, which were massive on her and he burst out laughing. Shit, he had not laughed in a long time, and the laughter continued, his eyes starting to tear.

She looked down at herself and began chuckling as well. "I could probably just get a belt and wear this shirt as a dress." She said when her laughter died down.

"Probably, but the socks wouldn't really go with that outfit I don't think." He said with a major grin on his face.

"It's a no-go then!" She exclaimed, "I love these socks, they're sooo thick!" Her smile was the purest expression of happiness he could imagine. All from socks. It was adorable. He tried to remind himself she could still be a threat.

"Oh, by the way, my name is Chloe." She said matter-of-factly.

"Hi Chloe. I'm Sam Winchester, my brother's Dean, and the guy you helped last night is Castiel. How much do you remember from last night?" She sat down on the couch beside him and pulled her knees up to her chest.

"Actually…" her eyes avoided him, "I knew who you both were last night." She held up her hand when his mouth had opened to question her. "Just wait. Here me out. My mother was a witch, raised me as one. She was good too, though that's probably what got her killed. Maybe if she'd been stronger… or I don't know. I grew up in the supernatural world and people talk. I have known about you and Dean since I was a teenager – I mean I don't know everything of course, but there were stories." Chloe's eyes were carefully focused on the table in front of her.

"What kind of stories?" He asked.

"Just hunting stories. Other than that I don't really know that much about you, I think my mom may have known more but she never got a chance to tell me." Chloe's voice dropped noticeably and he wanted to know what had happened to her mother.

"Do you mind me asking what happened?" His eyes watched her subtle movements, shifting, fidgeting. He wanted to comfort her but as he barely knew her, decided to stay on his side of the couch.

"A demon." Of course, he thought. Fucking bastards. "She was caught off-guard and didn't have a chance to fight back. I was seventeen."

Her eyes finally looked to the side and found his. Sam thought they looked haunted. He bet the same look had crossed his face more than once.

He placed a hand on her back tentatively. "I'm so sorry Chloe. My mother was killed by a demon as well." He thought for a moment before continuing, "…a yellow-eyed demon."

Her eyes widened, "Oh God." Her body turning towards him, "Sam, I'm sorry. I knew it was bad – What I'd seen."

"That's not all, actually. Dean killed him a few years ago. Metatron must have brought him back and we have no idea why." He hesitated. "About that…. we may need your help... if you're up for it." He knew it was risky and maybe even rude. She didn't seem the type to get involved too extensively.

"Yes. Definitely. I'll help in whatever way I can." Then she beamed. "Which right now involves breakfast!" She stood up from the couch exuberantly and looked down at him, her eyes asking if he was coming along as well.

He smiled in response and nodded his head. As he stood, their bodies brushed slightly as she hadn't fully moved out of the way yet and the touch made him feel tingly. He shook his head a little and almost laughed at how sometimes he felt like a thirteen year old boy.

The two of them made their way down the hall, past the rooms and into the kitchen off on the right. Sam tried to list where everything was and between the two of them they managed to get pots, pans, plates, and ingredients assembled.

* * *

The smell of coffee teased Dean awake. His body ached badly from the cramped position in the small chair where he'd slept. He looked across the room at the body stretched out on his bed. Cas was still sleeping but he knew the guy needed food soon.

Dean decided he would go grab some breakfast for himself and then bring some back to the room so his best friend didn't have to get up quite yet. Breakfast in bed… he thought with some humour. It felt a little too domestic but he'd do it anyway.

He had ditched the jeans last night and normally he would just walk out in his boxers but there was a girl wandering around this place and although normally he wouldn't pass up an opportunity to make a pass on a girl, he decided to throw some jogging pants on instead. He decided to keep the shirt off though. Why bother covering up all that good real estate?

Once in the kitchen he saw his brother and the woman seated across from each other scarfing down pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, and every other kind of breakfast food imaginable. _Christ! He didn't even know they had this much food. _

"You know there are only four of us, right?" Dean asked piling food onto a plate.

"Yeah… we got a little carried away." Sam smiled at the woman and Dean thought he saw a little something there but wasn't sure.

He looked at her and realized she was wearing one of Sam's plain T's. He was a little offended. Normally the women went for him, not his nerdy little brother.

"So what's your name then?" Dean stared at the witch as he sat down beside Sam.

"Chloe." She replied awkwardly while still chewing a mouthful of pancakes.

"She's going to help us figure out why Metatron brought Azazel back." Sam inserted.

"_Really?_" Dean didn't bother hiding the sarcasm. "Look Chloe, I really appreciate what you did last night but that doesn't mean I trust you. Besides, we don't even really know what you could have been seeing. I shot that son-of-a-bitch three years ago and there is no reason why Metatron would have brought him back – what goal could they have in common? I mean why would the douche-Angel need yellow-eyes specifically? Of all the demons, why him?"

Dean didn't wait for a response and just started shoveling pancakes coated in syrup into his mouth.

"I know it doesn't make sense, but we need help man. It's not like Cas is gonna be in any shape to help. Besides, without his Angel mojo, we don't have a lot of extra power on our side." Sam was now leaning back against the chair. The conversation of business had turned serious.

"There are other things I can do to try to find out what's going on and I will need some info from Castiel. When I do what I do – it's like I'm tuning into a radio station. I am able to see what is happening like a dream or a vision. It usually helps when I know more about the person or place I'm tuning into. It helps get more of the picture since sometimes all I get is the image, or just the words, or even flashes. It's very rare that I will get it all."

Dean wasn't sure how he felt about what Chloe could do. He hadn't heard of a witch being able to see things quite like that. Especially not seeing things without being seen themselves, or their power felt. It was risky.

"Alright. It's not like we have much choice, I guess. I'm gonna bring Cas some food and shower and all that shit, we'll meet back here around one or so and start figuring all this shit out."

He piled food onto his own empty plate and walked back to his room.

He closed the door behind himself and hesitated. He didn't want to wake the guy up but he definitely needed to eat if he was going to be fighting with them anytime soon.

Dean sat on the side of the bed and put the plate on the nightstand. He placed a hand on Castiel's shoulder and shook lightly.

"_Dean.."_ Cas groaned painfully, his voice deep, "I killed everyone. All of them."

"Hey man, listen this is not your fault. You had no way of knowing what that asshats real plans were. You are trusting and that is a good thing." Dean tried his best to comfort the guy but he wasn't sure if his words were having any effect.

"Not in our world it isn't." He argued, his eyes looking up into Deans. They seemed cold and Dean sure as shit didn't like the look of that.

He placed his hand back on Cas's shoulder and said, "It all depends on who your trust." He was trying to imply that Cas could trust him but the ex-Angel just seemed to get angrier.

"What do you want, Dean?" He asked.

"I brought your some breakfast." Dean replied, gesturing to the plate on the nightstand.

"I'm not hungry." Cas turned away from him and seemed to be returning to sleep.

"I don't care, you need to eat. You have been through shit and I get that but suck it up. We've all fucked up, but you don't see us sitting around whining like babies. Now eat your damn food." Dean shot back at him and got up to leave.

Cas turned to him then, his face apologetic. "I don't mean to anger you…. I just feel lost and in despair and I don't know how to handle it. It is as if before I was consumed with surviving and I was able to push these feelings back, but now, here with you and safe, I feel like a failure."

Dean didn't know what to say. True, he'd been a little hard on the guy and maybe the tough love approach to the newborn human wasn't the best approach. In a lot of ways he was new to emotions and that couldn't have been easy.

Dean sat back down on the bed and grabbed the guys shoulder, pulling him closer. "You are _not_ a failure. You have saved our asses more times than we count. Besides, we will fix this. I promise." He spoke with purpose and determination, trying to instill some hope in the man.

"What happens then?" Cas wouldn't meet his eyes and Dean wasn't sure why.

"What do you mean?"

"If I return to Heaven with the others, I will be killed. That is a certainty." He clarified and Dean knew it was true. Even if they restored the Angels… they wouldn't exactly forgive the guy, he would still have nowhere to go. He would forever be shut out of his home.

"Then you will stay with us. I know you saw, maybe still see, Heaven as your home and them as your family, but we are your family. Me, Sam, Kevin are your family. Would it be so terrible to stay with us?" He asked finally since he just couldn't help himself. He'd always felt like Cas was meant to be with them. It never felt right when he'd been gone, but Cas had never seemed to feel the same. Dean always sensed that Cas never feel at home with them and on some level it hurt. Probably more than it should.

"No, of course not. I truly enjoy spending my time with you." He paused awkwardly. "Both of you, all of you… you know what I mean. It's just I was an Angel in Heaven for thousands of years. It is not something so easily forgotten. There was a level of peace that I don't believe I will ever find here."

Well shit. Hard to argue with that.

"It might not be perfect, but.." he paused trying to find the appropriate ending and though he knew Cas thought the pause was confirmation that this life sucked, it was really more because Dean kept wanting to say ridiculous things, like _I'll make sure you're happy. _Which was the most unmanly thing ever and there was no way he was saying that.

"…But you will be happy. Eventually…. I promise." He settled on that. It was the best, albeit slightly reserved, promise he was able to make.

"Is something the matter, Dean? You seem conflicted, why?" Cas looked at him inquisitively, his head tilted to the side in that innocent way of his.

"It's nothing. Please eat." Christ, he hoped it was nothing.

"Alright." Cas took the tray from the table and began eating, mumbling a thanks between bites.

Dean stood up and left, and shook his head as he walked out the door wondering why his brain was kicking out things like him making some guy happy. That shit was weird and he decided to never think about it again. He assumed naively that it would be the last of such occurrences.

* * *

**A/N: My fic somewhat ignores Sam's state at the end of Season 8. I just wanted to write as if he was fine. Reviews welcome. :) Thanks.**


End file.
